


To Boldly Go

by TRASHCAKE



Category: VIXX
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, But In Space, Inspired by On and On, M/M, Slice of Life, Tribbles (Star Trek), kissing for research purposes, minor cameos from Wonshik's Squad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:04:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8786449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TRASHCAKE/pseuds/TRASHCAKE
Summary: Wonshik kisses an alien. You know, for science.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shellface](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellface/gifts).



> I saw this prompt, cradled my scale replica of the USS Enterprise to my chest and cried. True story. 
> 
>  
> 
> No Tribbles were harmed in the making of this fic.

_Captain’s Log, Star Date 2571.174:_

_Today marks the journey of the newly reinstated Starship Enterprise. Its continuing mission: to escort Ambassadors to strange, new worlds, to boldly deliver ambassadors where no one has delivered them before--_

“Goddamn it, Taemin.” Wonshik decides it’s time to interrupt Captain Lee before his so-called log gets out of hand. There’s nothing on his workstation to throw at his captain and old friend, so he settles on using his shoe, instead. Unfortunately, his standard issue foot covering is lightweight and does little damage as it connects with the back of Taemin’s snickering head. “They’ll fire you for disrespecting Kirk like that.”

He frowns, pausing. “Pickard as well. Didn’t he use a similar line?” Wonshik adds as an afterthought. 

“They’ve been dead for _years_ ,” Taemin yawns. He should be more excited, showing a little more enthusiasm over his position. To become captain of a Starship, especially one as renowned as _The Enterprise_ is no small feat at such a young age. Taemin isn’t taking his position seriously, not at all. “Plus, it’s not like Starfleet will actually check my logs. We’re not doing anything _important_.” 

Wonshik agrees to disagree. Their mission is to retrace the steps of their predecessors, to welcome new planets to the Alliance, and to place ambassadors from The United Federation of Planets into newly created roles within interplanetary embassies. It’s an important job, one trusted to the absurdly young captain and crew with the expectation that their mission will be completed swiftly and effectively. With little to no casualties, if at all possible.

Space is getting smaller. 

Scientifically, the statement doesn’t hold up. The universe is constantly expanding, new stars and planets being born with each second that passes. But as for the civilised worlds, there’s few left to discover. Races rarely share the same home planet, with intergalactic travel gaining popularity and interspecies marriage all too common. 

For example; Wonshik was born on a space station in orbit of Mars. Technically Earth’s property, but not _actually_ on Earth. Honest, planet-born humans are becoming increasingly hard to come by. Wonshik, in all his twenty-four years, has barely encountered enough Earth-Born humans to count on one hand.

Space is so, _so_ small.

“What’s our heading, Captain?” It’s the Starship’s new Navigator who speaks. He’s young, some sort of prodigy allowed to graduate from Star Fleet Academy _years_ before his time. Wonshik doesn’t recall his name. There are too many Ensigns on board and he just can’t seem to match names to faces. This kid, whatever his name is, has some sort of sixth sense with both the control panel and Captain Lee, often interrupting him with mission details before Taemin goes off on a tangent. 

The captain speaks and Wonshik doesn't listen. There's no reason for him to pay attention; as Chief Medical Officer his place is in the infirmary, not on deck. But Taemin likes to complain, and Wonshik is the sole member of their thousand strong crew with enough patience to deal with it. 

“I've got you on the away team for most of our stops.” Jongin is Captain Lee’s figurative and literal right-hand man. As both First Mate and Chief Science Officer, he sits to Taemin’s right at the command panel and aids the captain in his duties. Two hundred years later, and another half-Vulcan sits where Spock once sat. If he wasn't so capable as both first mate and science officer, Wonshik would think of Jongin’s promotion as nostalgic nod to _The Enterprise’s_ original crew.

“Sure.” Wonshik replies. Inwardly, he's excited. It's not often he's allowed to venture off the ship--- such is the life of a Senior Officer. But he's got a talented crew of medical professionals that can handle his job during his absences. Jongin has surely taken into account that the real dangers lie during missions, and as the most senior member of the medical division, it's only _logical_ to place him on the away team.

“You've been requested by the dignitaries of Alpha-620, as well,” Jongin continues. In the background, Wonshik hears the Captain bark orders for Warp Speed. _Take off_. “Their medical officer is interested in some _hands on_ education regarding human anatomy.”

“Now, if I didn't know better,” Wonshik says slowly, regarding the first mate quite curiously, “I'd think there was some _innuendo_ in that sentence.”

“And why would you think that?” A deadpan response, so typically _Vulcan_. 

Jongin speaks like a Vulcan and smirks like a human. 

As per usual, Jongin seems to know something that Wonshik does not.

\------

The first ambassador delivery goes off as planned. Wonshik is less of a medical officer during the mission and more of a bell boy; carrying bags from the arrival point and into her newly renovated suite within the embassy. 

There’s not a single scratch on any member of the away team, there was no interaction with anyone who could possibly be sick. Wonshik carries bags from an abandoned field into the ambassador’s new lodgings, shakes hands with the planet’s ruler and beams back on board _The Enterprise_ with an aching back and a sense of disappointment. 

He’s thankful that no one got hurt, but he accepted the position because he craves _adventure_. 

Maybe Taemin is right. Maybe their grand mission isn’t so grand at all; an overexaggerated cargo ship delivering people instead of product. 

Wonshik toys with the idea of asking for a transfer once their mission is complete. He’ll take a demotion and a pay cut if it means service on a Starship circling the Neutral Zone. They’re still at odds with the Romulans, even after all this time. It might be more exciting, more of a chance to prove his skills, if he were to face off with an enemy ship.

But, he’s agreed to this mission, and he’ll see it through to the end. 

Besides, serving on board _The Enterprise_ looks good on anyone’s resume, no matter the mission.

\------

The dignitaries from Alpha-620 are strange. It’s one of the first things Wonshik notices about them. There’s five in total, one of which is the planet’s ruling monarch. Despite their apparent interest in humans and need for Wonshik’s expertise, he’s yet to interact with the Federation’s newest race. 

Alpha-620’s inclusion in the Intergalactic Treaty is so recent, they haven’t allocated themselves, or their planet, a name within the universal common tongue. It seems like such an insult, to refer to a planet and culture with such a long, rich history with such a generic name. But their language is hard to pronounce, complex in grammatical structure and absurdly difficult to learn. So they compromise. 

The only member of the crew able to fluently communicate with them is the ship’s translator. But he’s _literally_ a robot, and the language was installed within his memory bank within seconds.

They're learning, though. Sometimes Wonshik spots their leader stumbling his way through conversations with various crew members, flanked by who he assumes is a bodyguard.

He's got no idea what positions the other three hold, nor which one of them he's supposed to educate about human anatomy. 

They're interesting, all five of them, and quite often the centre of ship-wide gossip.

Each of them tall and handsome, they all fit within the human standard of beauty. Mysterious aliens with yellow eyes and black markings extending along their eyelids and temples. Three missions down and the crew are already suffering from cabin fever, their only amusement stemming from gossip and thinly veiled curiosity about their passengers. 

Alpha-620 is the final stop on their journey. There are multiple reasons behind the decision; firstly, it allows the dignitaries time to immerse themselves in human culture and language. Secondly, it’s the furthest planet from their starting point at Starfleet command. It would have been far easier to send a separate ship without all the extra detours. It would have taken far less time to send a vessel straight from command back to Alpha 620. Their mission is expected to take at least a year, and that’s not accounting for any unfortunate hiccups that occur along the way.

The situation is strange, the people of Alpha-620 are strange, but Wonshik has far more important things to deal with. 

\------

“Home sweet home!” Taemin exclaims. He’s barely materialised on the planet’s surface, but he’s already displaying childish glee, excitedly observing the clearing they’ve marked as their beam point. The fourth stop on their journey is the Captain’s home planet; small, rather unknown but bearing quite a few mining colonies. The Federation’s presence is needed to keep the peace and quell the greed of companies intent on stripping the planet bare. 

Taemin is acting like a four-year-old rather than the captain of a Starship, but Wonshik is too preoccupied with the members of their landing party to pay him any attention. The planet obviously means a lot to the captain, therefore Wonshik’s presence, along with Jongin’s is to be expected. They’re old academy buddies, close friends and definitely the kind of people that Taemin would want to accompany him to his birthplace. 

It’s the other two additions that have Wonshik in his uncharacteristic state of confusion. The ship’s Chief Engineer, a Cyborg by the name of Jimin, stands to Taemin’s left, regarding the scenery in awe. Rumour has it that Jimin can _talk_ to the ship, and has made friends with the interface. Rumour also has it that Taemin is an immortal, humanoid demi-god and that Jongin is the mortal who summoned him. Wonshik pays no mind to idle gossip.

The most surprising member of their away crew is from Alpha-620. He’s one of the three whose roles Wonshik has yet to determine, and he’s abandoned his traditional clothing for a Starfleet uniform. Blue, for science and medicine. Wonshik wonders if the person trailing behind them is his Alpha-620 counterpart.

“Um,” Their mysterious companion begins, voice soft yet still effectively cutting off Captain Lee’s excited babbling, “I have chosen a name in your language. Please call me Taekwoon.” 

It’s a nice name, Wonshik decides. One day he’ll learn Taekwoon’s true name in his native tongue. It's the least he can do. 

Taekwoon brings a hand to his chest, fingers curled towards his palm with his pointer and index fingers extended into the shape of a _V_. It reminds Wonshik of the Vulcan symbol of _Live Long and Prosper_ ; the gesture must mean something similar to the people of Alpha-620. 

Awkwardly, the three human and one half-human member of their party return the gesture. It brings a small smile to Taekwoon’s face, evidently meaning that they've done something right. 

Wonshik would comment on Taekwoon’s impeccable language skills, but there's a glint of silver in his hair, a piece of tech curving around his head and adhering to the markings on his temples. It's a universal translator; most likely modified for Taekwoon’s usage by their technology department. He can understand them completely, is suddenly fluent in their language. 

Wonshik wonders why they weren't using them from the beginning.

“Anyone up for a detour?” Taemin asks suddenly, vaguely gesturing in an eastward direction, “There's a Tribble breeder in these parts.” 

“What's a Tribble?” Taekwoon asks, squinting in the direction of Taemin’s extended finger.

Taemin, still more of a four-year-old than Starship Captain, rubs his hands together in glee.

\------ 

The away party was supposed to check for danger, find the safest route to the embassy, then return to the beam point to accompany the delegates to their new home. 

Instead, the away party takes a detour and find themselves covered in small, squeaking balls of fur. 

Wonshik is beside himself with worry. Taemin is fine; he’s just chatting with the Tribble breeder, someone he’s apparently known since childhood. Jimin is seated in the corner of the room, absentmindedly petting a single Tribble as it naps quietly in his lap. There are two large piles of Tribbles in the centre of the room, in the same places both Taekwoon and Jongin were seen approximately twenty minutes ago. 

Jongin may have Vulcan logic, but his human side is weak to cute, fluffy creatures. Taekwoon seems to share the same sentiments. Wonshik isn’t quite sure that either of them can breathe under the weight of _so many_ Tribbles, but occasionally one of the piles will giggle, shift or coo affectionately, so he assumes that they’re enjoying themselves.

There’s a Tribble attempting to nest in Wonshik’s hair. He doesn’t exactly hate it, but it’s not like growing attached to the little thing and taking it back to the ship is a viable option. Even the new, genetically modified species of Tribble still breed at an alarming rate, and Wonshik knows Jongin well enough to know that the First Officer will _definitely_ attempt to keep at least one of the creatures. 

Hopefully, the conditions on Alpha-620 are too hostile for Tribbles, meaning Taekwoon has the sense to leave the farm empty handed.

Hopefully. 

“I’ve named him Friz,” Jongin announces, raising his arm from the Tribble pile, holding a small, white creature in his hand, “Because he’s very fluffy.” 

“What a _logical_ name.” Taemin snorts, always taking the opportunity to mock his First officer. 

“I will use a Vulcan Nerve Pinch on you,” comes Jongin’s muffled reply, “and I will leave your unconscious body on this planet.” 

“But that’s _mutiny_.” Jimin whispers, watching sadly as his Tribble slowly wiggles towards Taekwoon’s pile.

“It’s also a joke,” Wonshik supplies. “Jongin shouldn’t be taken seriously when there are small, fluffy things around.” 

“You humans are very strange.” Comments the pile of Tribbles formerly known as Taekwoon.

Wonshik resists the urge to facepalm. 

\------

The trip to Taemin’s home planet results in one successfully accompanied ambassador, and only three days worth of nostalgic distractions. It’s a new record. Usually, Taemin finds reasons to stay on his favourite planets for _weeks_ instead of days. Wonshik is somewhat proud of him.

Returning to _The Enterprise_ feels a lot like coming home. The comfort and familiarity throws Wonshik for a loop; he’s never felt so content on a Starship before. His examination room holds the fondness of a childhood bedroom, though it’s been largely unused over the past few months; a few minor injuries here and there--- mostly from the Engineering department. They’re prone to burns and broken bones, little things that take no time at all to fix.

Most of Wonshik’s on-ship duties revolve mostly around regular health checks for the crew. For the most part, it’s a useless endeavour. It’s not like the ship has seen combat, and the few lucky members of the crew allowed to disembark as part of an away team very rarely see injuries greater than a scratch or sprain. It’s boring being a doctor on a diplomatic vessel.

“Hello!” Wonshik’s examination room is his safe space, his office and essentially, his second bedroom. One of the Alpha-620 crew sits cross-legged on top of his table, anatomy textbooks spread across what little of the surface not taken up by his limbs. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve started my own studies.” 

“I---” Wonshik starts, staring at the chaotic mess with a mild sense of disbelief, “No, I don’t mind. Go ahead.” 

He does mind. He minds a lot. He’s inwardly freaking out. 

The man on his table offers him a wide grin in reply, before replicating the gesture shown to Wonshik by Taekwoon. He returns the gesture with shaking hands. 

“I’ve decided to be called Jaehwan, by the way.” He’s wearing the same translation device Wonshik saw on Taekwoon. Only Jaehwan’s comes attached to a thin strip of glass, most likely a visual translation aide as he reads over Wonshik’s textbooks. The language is hardly simple, and the tech must be either fantastic or working overtime in order to translate them properly. The curved surface of the glass lights up as Jaehwan directs his gaze downwards, the script of his native language scrolling along the surface with a green glow. 

“I’m Wonshik,” He says awkwardly. Jaehwan hasn’t allowed time for Wonshik to introduce himself, immediately immersing himself in a book dedicated to the human skeletal structure. 

“I'm aware.” Jaehwan doesn't look up from his book as he replies, but Wonshik can see that he's smiling. “Your name is written on the door.” 

“Right.” Wonshik says, not knowing how to continue. He's supposed to be _helping_ Jaehwan, but his visitor seems more than happy to study on his own. “If you need me I'll, yeah.” He gestures vaguely towards the mini-laboratory connected to his consultation room. There's some work to be done there; cataloguing, stocktaking. The next planet on their journey is home to a particularly strange virus. Wonshik needs to double (then triple) check that he's got enough vaccinations on hand. 

Jaehwan just hums, flicking to the next page of his-- Wonshik’s--- textbook.

\------ 

“Mind if I join you?” The Officer’s mess hall is for officers only, but Wonshik supposes that being the ruling monarch of an entire planet gives the Alpha-620 leader enough authority to dine with them. 

“Of course, your highness.” Wonshik gestures towards the empty seat adjacent to him, before quickly curling his hand into the Alpha-620 sign of greeting. 

“We don't have such titles on our planet,” He says with a laugh, “A literal translation would be more akin to _Grand Leader of Unification_ , but that is, as humans would say, a bit of a mouthful.” 

“And his title?” Wonshik points towards the leader’s ever present bodyguard, who stands rather than sits at the table, “What should we call him?”

“He’s the equivalent of the Starfleet Commander,” The leader says. So more military than bodyguard, then. “But I prefer to call him a _pain in the ass_.” 

“Hey--” 

“Your pain in the ass is welcome to sit.” Wonshik points out, “We’re safe here.” 

“My human name is Sanghyuk,” he points out, before sitting directly on the table’s surface. It seems to be a trend with the Alpha-620 crew, to forego chairs and go straight for the table. It’s not like they’re too tall for the furniture on board the ship--- Wonshik himself is no small human, and he manages just fine. “You wouldn’t be able to pronounce my real name.” 

“Try me.” He smirks. Wonshik has heard their language, knows that Sanghyuk is right and that any word for their mother tongue will be far too complex for him to replicate.

Sanghyuk’s reply is filled with sounds and syllables Wonshik has never heard, unnatural sounding tones and almost a full sentence worth of speech. 

“Don’t try and repeat it,” The leader says, shooting a glare in Sanghyuk’s direction, “That wasn’t his name, it was an insult to your mother.” 

“That’s a little disrespectful for a dignitary, don’t you think?” Wonshik replies. He hopes their universal translator picks up on his playful tone, that his body language reflects that he’s more amused than insulted. 

“We disrespect you by using these, anyway,” Sanghyuk points to the translator at his temple, “what’s an insult to your mother while we’re at it?” 

“It’s true,” The leader confirms, “You learn our customs, accommodate our needs, and yet we cannot learn your language in a more traditional way. To our people, that would be a great insult.” 

“Is that why you’ve taken on human names?” Wonshik ponders aloud, “as a sign of respect, rather than an attempt to assimilate?” 

“Exactly,” the leader confirms, “mine is Hakyeon, by the way. Again, I am being rude and I apologise.” 

“It’s fine,” Wonshik waves his hand dismissively, “there are people I’ve worked with for _months_ that I still haven’t introduced myself to.” 

“ _Fascinating_ ,” Hakyeon breathes, resting his chin on his hands and regarding Wonshik curiously, “humans are truly interesting creatures.” 

Truthfully, Wonshik could say the same about them.

\------

“What is ‘food’?” Jaehwan is in the examination room again. He, like Taekwoon, has abandoned his traditional clothing for a Starfleet uniform. Again, like Taekwoon, his uniform is blue. But whereas Taekwoon’s role is yet to be determined, Jawhwan’s near constant presence within the infirmary indicates that he’s a doctor. Or the Alpha-620 variant of one.

“What do you mean?” Wonshik is honestly puzzled. Their mission is reaching the four-month mark, and that’s a lot of days for Jaehwan to notice that humans eat to survive. The fact that he hasn’t, by this point, is completely mind boggling. 

“Hongbin was talking to the Enterprise, and she told him it was time for the crew to perform the action of ‘eating’ something called ‘food’.” Jaehwan regards Wonshik inquisitively. “Is it some sort of ritual?” 

“I have so many questions,” Wonshik mumbles, “Who is Hongbin, how is he talking to our ship, and how did you not notice that humans eat?” 

“Hongbin is our…” Jaehwan trails off, waiting for his translator to supply the appropriate term, “He is our planet man.” 

“Planet man.” Wonshik deadpans. Obviously, there's still a few bugs in the translation system. 

“Other suggestions were botanist and geologist.” Jaehwan supplies helpfully, “Though neither of those fit.” 

“Are you saying that rocks grow on your planet?” Wonshik concludes, piecing together the information, “And that you farm them for sustenance?” 

“Yes!” Jaehwan exclaims, clearly overjoyed that Wonshik has gathered meaning from his vague translations, “it's a little more complicated that that, but yes, that's the vague idea.”

“Then you've answered your own question about food,” Wonshik begins. He pulls a bag of snacks from his desk drawer to prove his point. He pops one into his mouth, making sure to display the act of eating. His snacks of choice are round, non-descript spheres of nutrients and artificial flavour. They're filled with vitamins, yet taste exactly like cake. “We eat food to obtain nutrients vital for our survival. Just as you do with the stones on your planet.”

“Our people do not _ingest_ the minerals, we draw energy from them.” Jaehwan seems scandalised by the idea. 

“Then how do you digest them?” Wonshik is now as innately curious about the people of Alpha-620 as they are about him. It’s a learning experience for both of them.

“Hold on,” Jaehwan says, “I have to look up the definition of _digest_.” 

“I can expla--” 

Wonshik begins to talk, but Jaehwan cuts him off with a shushing noise. His face morphs through several different emotions as the definition scrolls along his glasses. From interest to shock, and finally, disgust, Jaehwan speed reads through the complexities of the human digestive system. 

“We _definitely_ don’t do that.” Jaehwan says, looking a little pale. “We absorb the energy from the minerals, but cannot process it into our equivalent of your food.” 

“So what do you do?” Wonshik asks. He’s never met a race with such a complicated feeding process; most humanoid races having evolved in a similar fashion to humans. Energy absorption is more of a sentient gas thing, not something that is done by a race so uncannily human.

“We store and process the energy, then feed from each other.” Jaehwan says, “We hypothesise that it was evolution’s way of ensuring close relationships between our people.” 

“You feed from each other,” Wonshik says slowly, “how?” 

“I can’t feed from you,” Jaehwan says, sliding from the table and making his way towards Wonshik, “but I can demonstrate.” 

Wonshik expects a bite, something like the old vampire stories. What he doesn’t expect is a _kiss_. 

It’s not a chaste pressing of lips, but something far more filthy; the kind of kiss that preludes something far more intimate, with tongues and gasps and Jaehwan’s fingers tugging at his hair. 

“In my culture,” Wonshik says as Jaehwan pulls away, lips shiny and kiss swollen, “that’s called a kiss.” 

“And why do humans kiss?” Jaehwan asks, returning to his position on top of the desk.

“Intimacy, attraction,” Wonshik’s mind is still reeling, “enjoyment, as well.”

“Did you enjoy our _kiss_?” Jaehwan asks with a smirk.

“By human standards, you are a good kisser.” Wonshik confirms. Despite the surprise, he can’t say that it wasn’t enjoyable. It’s not like Jaehwan, nor the other members of his crew, are unattractive beings. He was caught off guard, though pleasantly so. If Jaehwan asked to kiss him again, Wonshik would be hard pressed to find reasons to decline. 

“I have made an incredible scientific discovery,” Jaehwan informs him, “It turns out that I _can_ feed from you.” 

“But I haven’t had your weird rock energy,” Wonshik is utterly perplexed. “How is that possible?” 

“I’m not sure,” Jaehwan says slowly, “I think further experimentation is required.” 

“So we’re going to do that again?”

Wonshik asks. He's internally excited, wonderfully anticipating the upcoming _experiments_. 

"Of course," Jaehwan replies, "We must be sure. An experiment _should_ be conducted more than once." 

His smile is small, almost knowing. He continues to study the books in front of him. 

And what the hell, Wonshik supposes. He's getting into something big with this, that much he can tell. There's still so much to learn about the people of Alpha-620, for them to learn about humans in return. There is a new culture, a new language, a new race of people to learn about. Alpha-620 is the newest planet in their alliance, and they should be welcomed accordingly.

His time aboard _The Enterprise_ has been lacklustre so far, but there's something about the ship that invites danger, provokes excitement and encourages adventure.

Perhaps he _will_ apply for that transfer. 

Alpha-620 is in need of an ambassador, after all.


End file.
